


First Time

by geekyjez



Series: Katwynne Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a night of firsts for Katwynne Trevelyan - her first time with Cullen, her first time with any man, and the very first time she tells him exactly how she feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Cullen + Trevelyan smut was requested and I was far too weak to resist.

His body was over hers, lips still seeking her skin even as he was forced to pull away. She was laughing, giggling, fingers fumbling over the straps that held his breastplate in place. Between the two of them, they loosened his armor, metal clanging as he let it fall unceremoniously to the stone floor. Broken glass skittered as each piece landed, joining the debris that he’d hurriedly swept from his desk.

“Better?” he murmured, his voice in a low purr as he settled over her once more, no longer held back by the heavy steel plate. Katwynne nodded, smiling as his lips met hers again. She could feel him now – the heat of his skin through his tunic, the roll of his hips as he pressed himself to her thigh, one of his hands angling her head back as he deepened the kiss. Her breaths caught in her throat as he traced the curve of her breast through her jacket, arching her body to meet his touch.

Even if his lips weren’t pressed to hers, Katwynne wouldn’t have been able to form a coherent sentence to save her life.

There was a certain hurried quality to this, his kisses seeking her cheek, her ear, her throat, trailing downward as his fingers flicked open the buttons of her jacket, freeing more of her skin. He kissed along the swells of her breasts as she whimpered, senselessly rocking her hips against him, running her fingers through his hair. He lifted his head for only a moment, his smirk making her stomach jump as he slipped her breastband down. She watched him, anxious as half-lidded eyes studied her bare chest. There were scars there to match her face, small snaking marks that carved a path down the side of her right breast. She’d always seen herself as mutilated, self-conscious of her body as a result of the damage done to it. Yet there wasn’t a hint of repulsion or disappointment in his face. He looked at her as if she were something precious, beautiful, _perfect_. He cupped her gently in his hand, caressed her as if each kiss were praise, slowly drawing his tongue across her skin until he had her writhing.

She’d thought of this hundreds of times but to actually be here, to actually feel him, to have more from him than stolen kisses and shy flirtation – it was thrilling, overwhelming, all-encompassing. She’d never wanted anything more than she wanted him in that moment. Each movement stirred an ache between her legs, her heart pounding, her breaths tight. Even so, she felt a sudden panic as he began to tug the lacings loose on her breeches _. I should say something, right? Warn him? But what if he changes his mind?_ The thought burrowed into her stomach, hardening into a knot as he opened the closure, his hand slipping lower.

“I’ve never done this before,” she blurted out, instantly regretting it as he paused. _Maker, that doesn’t mean stop!_ He pulled back to look down at her as she stammered. “I…” Suddenly her mouth felt so incredibly dry. “I mean… I’ve never gone further than… well… _this_ and…” She swallowed hard. “I wanted to but… it was never allowed.” She was an adult but admitting she was still a virgin made her feel like an inexperienced child. She wasn’t naïve. She knew about sex, had read about it in contraband books she found stashed away in hidden corners of the Circle’s library. She knew her own body, tending to her urges with only fantasy to fuel her. She’d had brief tumbles with men in the Circle, heated groping and stolen kisses but it never went any further than that. She was always too afraid of getting caught. And she needed her first time to mean something, to be with someone who truly cared for her - not some quick fumbling in some closet just because the opportunity presented itself.

His eyes narrowed, bearing a look of softened concern. “Are you… Do you not want this?”

“No!” she answered quickly. “ _Maker_ , I want this. I want you. I just…” She bit at her lip, her fingers nervously picking at his sleeve. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed…”

Cullen’s expression warmed, puzzled and grinning. He chuckled as his hand slipped to her cheek, lowering himself within an inch of her lips. “Believe me, that’s never something you have to worry about, Kat.” He kissed her again and she felt the tension lessen in her stomach, melting away with the press of his mouth. She let out a cooing sigh as he pulled back and he smiled, gazing down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Do you want to take this up to my room?” he whispered.

She nodded. He smiled and _sweet Andraste_ it was beautiful, her stomach doing flips as he lowered himself to his feet, offering her a hand up. She stepped carefully, brushing shards of glass away with her foot.

“You made quite a mess, Commander.”

“I was eager,” he said, the corner of his lips quirked as he drew her close, kissing just below her ear. “I still am.” The words trailed down her spine, thrumming along her skin and she kissed him again. He guided her to the ladder and she climbed it, anticipation and apprehension both pooling in her belly.

Even reassured that he wasn’t bothered by her inexperience, she couldn’t help but feel uncertain, not sure precisely what to do with herself. She bent over, beginning to unlace her boots. That was a sensible thing, wasn’t it? She’d need to take her boots off. She could hear him do the same before walking over to her, his hands settling softly on her hips.

She straightened as he drew her to him, tilting her chin up with his hand. When their lips met, it was light, gentle, unhurried. He pushed her jacket from her shoulders, unfastening the breastband that sagged at her waist. Their pace was slower now as she slipped her hands under his tunic, flattening her palms against his chest before pulling the garment up over his head. She went willingly as he eased her toward the bed, guiding her up until her head rested on his pillow, his body settling over hers.

It felt natural to have him resting between her legs, her thighs cradling his sides. Now when he moved she could feel the press of him on her slit, clothed hips doing little to stop the thick ridge of him from grinding against her. The thought of feeling him bare between her legs left her shuddering, heat snaking through her veins as his hands wandered. They teased her as they had before, nails lightly raking over the swell of her breasts as they kissed. His fingertips ghosted over her throat, her nipples, her sides, her hips. Every place he touched made her skin come alive, her breaths heavy with moans she could do little to contain. His hand drifted back down to her breeches, fingertips slipping slowly into her smalls and she gasped, crying out as she felt the sudden shock of him brushing against her clit. He seemed to savor the sound, pulling back just far enough to watch her face as he drew slow circles between her folds. The movement was so small, so slow yet it sent shivers down her spine.

“Cullen… _Maker_ , that feels…” The sentence went unfinished, unable to shape her tongue around the words as he gently pressed a finger into her, carefully studying her reaction. It felt entirely foreign, so different from her own hand. Thick fingers, able to bend and curl and press deeper than she ever could.

"Is that good?"

"Yes," she sighed, shivering. "Heavens, yes-" He groaned softly as he stroked her, her eyes fluttering shut as his finger curled, searching along her walls until he struck a spot that forced her thighs to clamp together instinctively, a shocked yelp escaping her. Cullen's smile widened as he soothed her, shushing softly as he eased her legs apart once more, freeing his trapped hand so his finger could caress that hidden place once more. Shivers skittered across her skin like oil striking hot metal, her nipples drawing painfully tight. She'd touched herself before, she'd made herself come before, but _sweet Andraste's blessings_ it had never felt like this.  

“Do you know how often I’ve thought about this, Kat?” A second finger entered and she whimpered, his name on her lips as she gripped his shoulder. The fullness felt different - new and strange but good. So very good. He nuzzled against her throat, his breaths hot on her skin as he spoke. “Some days I can think of little else. I’ve spent weeks imagining all the ways I want to make you come.”

“Maker’s breath,” she gasped, a small laugh on her lips as she angled her head back against the bed. He shifted her breeches and smalls lower, giving his hand more freedom to move as his fingers glided against her. He moved in long, slow strokes, teasing her clit before trailing back down, sinking into her again only to withdraw and repeat the motion. Slow. Steady. Easing her into this. Her hand tightened against his shoulder, her other clenching around a fistful of bedding as her back involuntarily arched. She felt as if her heart had jumped into her throat, each thrust sending soft ripples of pleasure through her body. She rocked against him, panting as he kissed her again, slowly lapping at her lips as his fingers pressed harder against that delicious spot. She cried out, muffled against his mouth as her nails dug into his skin, her arms shaking. It wouldn’t take long. She could tell it wouldn’t, her orgasm building faster than it ever had before. What normally was a struggle instead came in a sudden rush, washing over her from head to toe as she gasped, her whole body trembling uncontrollably. She broke away from his lips, struggling to breathe as he watched her, a self-satisfied grin on his face as his fingers continued to draw out her climax. He hummed softly, kissing her cheek as she melted into a languid haze of pleasure.

“I take it that was good?”

She simply let out a soft whimper, nodding. It had never felt like that before. Her own hand now seemed to pale in comparison to what his could achieve. She kissed him, snaking her hand along his side, pushing down on his breeches. It was less an attempt to undress him and more a silent command for him to strip which he did without hesitation. She watched from the bed as he rose, freeing her own legs from her half-shed clothing as he loosened his ties. She couldn’t help but stare. She knew the male body, of course. She knew anatomy. But all the illustrations and salacious statuary in the world couldn’t compare. She’d seen him naked before, true. There was no forgetting that night of Wicked Grace. She’d struggled to keep her eyes above his waist then, blushing hard as she tried to avoid watching him awkwardly strip the clothing he’d so foolishly bet. Now, his body was hers to enjoy.

He crawled forward and she pulled him close, embracing him completely as her thighs gripped him, her arms slipping around his shoulders. She could feel him pressed against her entrance but he didn’t push forward. He merely shifted, groaning as he brushed against her slit.

She snaked her hand between them, eliciting a soft curse from him as her hand gently stroked his shaft. He felt so impossibly hard beneath her hand, like an iron rod beneath such soft, warm skin. She’d read such descriptions of an erect member before but thought they’d merely been exaggerating. Kat took a steadying breath, trying to still her apprehension as she brushed the head of him between her folds. His breaths grew shallow, stuttering as he looked down at her and she smiled, nodding. That was all the confirmation he needed. He braced himself against her hips and slowly began to push inside.

All her breath was stolen as she felt the sudden fullness, the stretch and pressure of him inside her. Her body was spread, reshaped, reformed. It wasn’t pain. Not quite. Nothing sharp or biting. Nothing like what the Chantry sisters described in hushed tones, trying to warn young girls away from men’s beds. His posture stiffened, his brow lowering. “Pain?”

“No,” she said quickly, reassuring him. She braced her heels against the mattress, experimentally angling up to rock against him, taking him deeper. A tremor shook them both and she smiled, gently gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. She nodded her reassurances and he eased back, slowly sinking into her again. Pressure gave way to pleasure with each thrust, gentle at first before gradually picking up speed. There were no words between them, only ragged breaths cut with stifled moans. His skin felt feverish against her own, sweat dewing on them both as he kissed her, his chest brushing hers with each press. His brow furrowed into a familiar look of concentration and everything else fell away. Skyhold felt distant, insignificant.

She whimpered, missing the feel of his lips as he pulled back, the sensation quickly replaced as his hand moved between them, his thumb circling her clit once more. The cry that escaped her was shocking, surprising, springing forth without warning. All her concerns of them being heard, of voices carrying to the patrols outside – she could no longer care. She saw his smile widen, a look of both pleasure and determination as his thrusts grew harder, deeper, more desperate. She couldn’t silence herself, calling out to him, to the Maker- it didn’t matter as long as he kept going. She could feel herself nearing, a steady tremor building inside her, tight and shaking, rippling, as if the Veil itself vibrated within her, the world crumbling around her, leaving her with nothing but his body to anchor her to reality. She came, muscles tightening, gripping him as her body convulsed, quivering as she lost all sense of control. She couldn’t hold back, couldn’t hold herself together as her climax loosed her from her senses. He called her name, bit it out in a groan as he drove himself into her, stilling. She could feel the pulse of his release, feel him twitch deep within her as he came with a cry, a low sound that rumbled in his chest.

They both stilled then, gasping, his forehead lowering to her own. Their eyes closed, listening to each other’s labored breaths, not daring to move as even the slightest shift left both of them trembling. She tilted her chin, blindly seeking his lips. It was a slow, leisurely kiss. Her hand went to his cheek, her thumb tracing his scar as the corner of his mouth lifted.

“I love you,” she whispered. It felt strange that this was the first time she was saying it aloud. It had gone unsaid for far too long, their dialogue so focused on the complications surrounding their mutual attraction that the words simply passed her by.

His expression warmed, his smile broadening, a look of genuine happiness gracing features that so often looked strained. He repeated the words as if he was testing them on his lips, learning the feel of them before his mouth met hers once more. When he pulled away he stared down at her, brushing loose hair from her brow. “I never thought…”

The sentence went unfinished, hesitating as her hand slid to the back of his neck, drawing him down to kiss his cheek.

“I know.”


End file.
